


If You Give a Billionaire a Sugar Baby

by Teddy1008



Category: Marvel Cinematic Universe
Genre: BDSM, Daddy Kink, Discipline, Dom Tony Stark, Dom/sub, Kink Negotiation, M/M, Orgasm Control, Other Additional Tags to Be Added, Pet Names, Peter Parker is a Little Shit, Plot What Plot/Porn Without Plot, Porn with Feelings, Possessive Behavior, Punishment, Smut, Sub Peter Parker, Sugar Baby Peter Parker, Sugar Daddy Tony Stark, Total Power Exchange
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2021-01-16
Updated: 2021-01-23
Packaged: 2021-03-14 16:27:24
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 9,975
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28798362
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Teddy1008/pseuds/Teddy1008
Summary: Peter applies to become CEO Tony Stark’s personal assistant.News flash: he doesn’t get the job.What he does get, however, is the offer to be Tony’s sugar baby.
Relationships: Peter Parker/Tony Stark
Comments: 119
Kudos: 533





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> Hello everyone! Probably about 70% of this is going to be porn, because we love that in this household. The formatting in this chapter was a pain in the ass - I hope you guys can all see it well.
> 
> I’ll do my best to have relatively regular updates, but my fic [Wolves Go For Your Heart](https://archiveofourown.org/works/28304265/chapters/69354696) will take priority for weekly updates (check it out if you’re interested)!!
> 
> Special thanks to the amazing [winterironspiderling](https://winterironspiderling.tumblr.com/) for being the best beta ever !

Look, Peter was not a stupid guy. 

But the truth was, sometimes, he did stupid, stupid things. For instance: lying on his resume and getting caught for it. 

And that was how he found himself sweating profusely in front of Tony Stark, the CEO of Stark Industries, a company with an excellent reputation for manufacturing the highest grade of military weapons all over the world, jaw practically on the floor in response to the absurd offer Tony had just made. 

“You’re kidding, right?” 

“Does it look like I am?” 

Peter stared at the rich, snobby, and _extremely_ _hot_ man standing in front of him for a few more seconds, then—fuck it. What did he have to lose? Jutting out his chin with a touch of defiance, he said, “Tell me the deal again.”

A smirk grew on Tony’s lips, and oh, okay, that looked good on him. “Well. It’ll all be outlined in the contract for you to read, but I have a feeling that you need to _hear_ me say it again, so I will. I’m gonna be very upfront with you, Mr. Parker—you didn’t get the job. You already know that. You lied on your resume, I found out, and that isn’t the sort of impression you want to be making on a potential employer. Hence, no job.”

Peter deflated a bit at his tone, unable to help but wince at the jarring reminder of his mistake. It had just been one little lie, and he really hadn’t been expecting to be caught. Lying about his credentials had resulted in nothing but a guilty conscience. 

Tony continued on, not even giving him a second glance as he moved to grab his laptop. “However. I’m giving you a second option that will help you make the same—no, _more_ —than what you would’ve gotten as my assistant. As I’ve stated here” —he swiveled the laptop around to show Peter— “the arrangement would be upheld for a year. During that year, you’re mine.” He paused, gaze unwavering.

Peter swallowed. 

“That means you don’t get to meet anyone else romantically. You don’t get to choose what you wear or what you eat without my approval. You don’t get to work, either. I’d want you always ready for my call, so you’d live with me. Anything you want to do, you ask for permission. You need something, I give you the money—within reason, obviously. In return, I expect your full loyalty and dedication.”

“That…” Peter’s mouth was dry. Hearing it a second time didn’t dull the jolt of shock and apprehension that hit him again. “You do realize how _creepy_ this all sounds? And how _expensive_ it would be for you?” 

Tony shrugged, looking unabashed as he tucked his hands into his pockets. “What can I say? Maybe I’m just a lonely man with too much money on his hands. It’s hard to find someone who won’t jump at the chance to exploit you. See, that’s what makes relationships hard for someone like me. That’s why I want someone like you, on my terms.”

“Someone like me?”

Tony ignored him. “As long as you’re of age—which you are—oh, please tell me you are. Okay, good. In that case, I don’t see a problem with helping you clean up a bit. You clearly need it.” He pointedly looked at Peter’s suit and wrinkled his nose. “Broke kid with massive student loans. Don’t pretend it’s not true; I can practically smell it on you and your polyester suit.”

“First of all, I don’t smell; I showered this morning. Second, this suit is _new,_ okay? I bought it specifically for this interview, so you’re welcome. Third—you do realize that if I agree, I’d technically be exploiting you for your money.” 

“Irrelevant.” Tony smiled sweetly. 

“I could report you for this.” 

“Oh, but you won’t.”

Peter raised an eyebrow. “And why is that?” 

Tony laughed, then chucked Peter under the chin like he was a puppy, making him scowl. “Do I even need to answer that? Kid, I’m not stupid, and neither are you. That’s how I know you’re going to take this offer. Believe me when I say you’re not getting anything better from anywhere else. We’re talking about a guaranteed payment of twenty grand a month here. But hey, if you really don’t want to do this? I’m not going to hold you hostage.” Tony shrugged. “Your loss.” 

Peter did a double-take at the older man’s words. “Jesus! Twenty thousand? You’re insane, oh my god. You’ve lost it for sure. It’ll be on the front pages of the New York Times tomorrow— _CEO of Stark Industries gone mad, offers to pay whore twenty thousand a month.”_

Tony frowned. “Don’t call yourself a whore. You’re not.” He appraised Peter through narrowed eyes, then said, “I’m getting impatient, kid. If you’re not going to take this, then I’m going to need you to walk out of that door right now because I’m wasting precious interview time with someone who’s actually qualified for this job, with _real_ credentials. So, what’s it gonna be, pal?”

Peter stared at his stupidly hot stupid fucking face, mulling his options over. Except—he didn’t really have many options. It was either accept Tony’s offer, or go home and stay broke in his crusty little apartment. The man had already told him that it was his choice. He certainly wouldn’t be forcing Peter to do anything, considering he could probably find someone better than Peter within a ten minutes. Rich people things. Honestly. Was it worth it? Twenty thousand dollars a month. _Minimum._ That got Peter wondering what on earth the _maximum_ could be, and what exactly he’d have to do to earn it. 

Oh, it was _so_ worth it. He didn’t even have anything to lose at this point. The Stark Industries position had been his last chance, his last pitiful burst of effort at securing a stable job, and he’d failed because he’d been too _greedy,_ lying to make himself seem better than he actually was. And it hadn’t even worked. He should’ve known. Tony was too smart to fall for something like that; the man had graduated top of the class in MIT. Of course he’d manage to wheedle the truth out of Peter within two minutes.

Tony was right. He _was_ a broke kid with debts. Lots and lots of debts, with no living relatives that would be able to help him if he only had a few cents left rolling around in his savings account, which would inevitably happen sometime in the near future. So yeah, it was worth it. He could do a little dick sucking for $20,000. He was ashamed to admit that he might even like it a bit, because hell, this was _Tony Stark._

“Alright. I’m in.” Peter saw a smug little smirk pull at Tony’s lips, as if to say, _of course you’re in,_ and a sudden thought popped into his brain. “On one condition.” 

Tony raised an eyebrow, looking a bit amused. “Oh?” 

Peter crossed his arms over his chest. He was desperate, but he wasn’t a pushover, and he wanted to establish that. “I want a guarantee that you aren’t going to screw around with anybody else either.” 

Tony nodded. “That goes without saying. I take loyalty very seriously.”

 _“And_ I want a trial run. I want to see what it is that I’m getting into—safety precautions; you can’t blame me for that.” Peter bit his bottom lip thoughtfully. “Two weeks. And I want eight thousand as a… ah… ‘signing bonus,’ I suppose.” He wondered how far he could push until Tony put a stop to it. 

“One week.”

“One and a half?”

“Three days.”

“Shit, fine. One week.”

“Deal.” Tony grinned, shark-like. 

Peter shook his hand firmly, trying to hide how nervous he was. 

The man didn’t seem to notice. Or maybe he just didn’t care. “Give me your number and email. I’ll send over some things for you to sign—confidentiality agreements, the contract, you know the drill.”

 _Do I?_ “Okay, cool.” Peter accepted the memo pad that Tony handed him, wrote his information down with an exaggerated flourish, and gave it back. “Um. Okay. Do I just…?” He jabbed his thumb towards the door. 

“Yes.” Tony ripped the note off of the pad and tucked it neatly into his suit pocket. “I’ll text you.” 

“‘kay. Bye.” 

It was probably the most awkward goodbye Peter had ever exchanged with someone, though he figured the awkwardness would disappear with the progression of their impending arrangement. Fun stuff. 

Peter made his way back to his tiny apartment and fixed himself a sad-looking bowl of Kraft macaroni for dinner. He flipped the news channel on for background noise and ate, wondering if he’d still be allowed to eat mac and cheese once he moved in with Tony. He hoped the man wasn’t a health freak. 

When he finished his dinner, it was nearing seven o’clock and Peter was beginning to think that Tony had lied about all of this just to entertain himself when his phone buzzed. He jumped, then cautiously picked it up. 

> **Unknown Number: Hey kid. I just emailed the paperwork over. Send it back to me by the end of the night so we can set up a time for negotiations ASAP.**

He added Tony to his contacts, and then:

> **Peter: Negotiations?**
> 
> **Tony: Yes. Jesus. Did you think I’d be a control freak?**
> 
> **Peter: That’s kind of the vibe I got, yeah.**
> 
> **Tony: Well, not for negotiations. Believe it or not, but I’m not an asshole. This is all going to be consensual. Anything that you list as a hard limit, I won’t touch.**
> 
> **Peter: Hard limits?**

He frowned. What the hell did that mean?

> **Tony: You’ll see in the contract. Don’t reply until you’re done with everything I sent you.**

Huh. Okay. Peter opened up his email and found an unread message in his inbox, which he figured was from Tony. Attached were several different files, all of which Tony had generously named for him. 

> From: t.stark@starkindustries.com  
>  Sent: Monday, January 4, 2021 6:58 PM  
>  To: parker810@gmail.com  
>  Subject: Contract & Other Paperwork 
> 
> Peter, 
> 
> I’m looking forward to meeting with you again to discuss our arrangement. I’m going to go ahead and assume that your schedule is quite flexible, considering you’re currently unemployed. Correct me if I’m wrong (I’m not). 
> 
> I’d like to begin as soon as possible. I’m available tomorrow, January 5, 2021 after 4 PM. Ideally, I’d like to have you come over to my condo by at least 5 PM. We can have dinner and go over everything together before signing the contract. When we meet, we will most likely discuss your limits, safewords, fantasies, kinks, interests, financial needs, and potentially any other relevant personal matters. Let’s see where the conversation takes us. 
> 
> I understand that we will be doing a trial week. As agreed, I will provide a guaranteed payment of $8,000 as a signing bonus, as well as any other financial requests you may have for the entirety of this trial week, within reason. Again, we will discuss this more in person. It is also in writing in the contract. We will amend the contract accordingly before signing it. 
> 
> I have attached several PDF files that you can download and fill out. Please make sure you don’t leave anything blank. Send them back by the end of the night so we have something to work on tomorrow. If you have any questions, don’t hesitate to ask. Communication is important. 
> 
> You know who I am.

Peter clicked on the first attachment that he saw, labelled _Kink List 2021.pdf._ He did a double take at the massive list organized from A to Z. It was _twenty pages long._ Jesus. And now that he thought about it… he hadn’t been aware that they’d be including so much _kink_ in their arrangement. Not that he minded… he thought. 

> **Peter: Didn’t know you were so 50 Shades of Grey in the bedroom. Is this my cue to run away screaming?**
> 
> **Tony: I thought I told you not to reply until you were finished. And please don’t ever imply that Christian Grey and I are on the same level. We’re not. I’m better.**

Peter rolled his eyes, but didn’t reply—that was what Tony wanted, wasn’t it? He turned his attention back to the kink list and huffed. Okay. Time to work through this baddie. 

There were a shit ton of things Peter had never even heard of before. Like, seriously, what the hell was katoptronophilia? 

By the end of his list, he found that there were many things that made him twitch with interest. Like daddy kink. Or spanking. And even orgasm control. Oh, god. He’d never come out of this alive. 

After that, he moved onto the file that talked about the financial technicalities, and then confidentiality paperwork that basically prevented him from exposing or suing Tony unless there was a breach of contract, and vice versa. 

Finally, he clicked on the attachment called _Contract Draft 2021 - to be amended.pdf._ He read through it, seeing a few parts that he would definitely be discussing with Tony, and did a double-take when he saw the statement that clarified that even after their year was over, Tony would be providing living arrangements for him and helping him adjust to the change. He couldn’t help but feel a bit relieved that he wouldn’t be thrown out onto the streets after the year was over. He’d been considering keeping his apartment, though that would’ve resulted in him unnecessarily spending money to pay rent, which—just no. 

He moved on the subsection titled “Potential Schedule.” He frowned as he read through it, then picked up his phone. 

> **Peter: I have a question.**
> 
> **Tony: Yes?**
> 
> **Peter: It says in the contract that I’d basically be on call 24/7. Do I not get any breaks?**
> 
> **Tony: That could be negotiated.**
> 
> **Peter: I want a day off. I do have a personal life to maintain, so.**
> 
> **Tony: Okay, that’s fine with me. We can talk about it more when we meet up to go through everything properly together.**
> 
> **Peter: Cool. I think I’m mostly done then.**
> 
> **Tony: “Mostly done” isn’t “completely done.” I want completely done.**
> 
> **Peter: K.**

With a small huff, he filled out the necessary parts in the contract, then emailed Tony back.

> From: parker810@gmail.com  
>  Sent: Monday, January 4, 2021 9:27 PM  
>  To: t.stark@starkindustries.com  
>  Subject: re: Contract & Other Paperwork 
> 
> Hey, 
> 
> It’s Peter (obviously). 
> 
> I think I’ve filled out everything that you want me to. Check out the attachments I sent back. Let me know if there’s anything I need to fix. And i can do tomorrow at 5. Will I start right away? As in, should I bring my stuff over? And what’s gonna happen to my apartment? I kinda need to give notice that I’m leaving so yeah. 
> 
> Peter. 

He got a response almost immediately.

> From: t.stark@starkindustries.com  
>  Sent: Monday, January 4, 2021 9:30 PM  
>  To: parker810@gmail.com  
>  Subject: re: Contract & Other Paperwork 
> 
> You think? Or you know? I’m going to need you to clarify, because there’s a clear difference between you _thinking_ you’ve completed your task and you _knowing_ you’ve completed your task. 
> 
> Tomorrow at 5 PM is perfect. I’ll send a car over for you at that time, so text me your address tomorrow morning. 
> 
> Please let me know if you have any food restrictions or allergies, as I’ll be cooking dinner for you. I don’t want you to go into shock on your first day. 
> 
> We can start on January 6, 2021 at 8 AM. You can come over and we’ll negotiate, sign the contract, and then you can settle in and get used to your surroundings. Bring what you want to bring, but I highly doubt that you’ll need to bring much. You can bring a change of clothes if you want, but I’m taking you out shopping soon anyways, so you won’t _really_ need those, and I have PJ’s/basic toiletries ready for you. 
> 
> As for your apartment - I’m sure you saw in the contract, but even after our year is over, I will provide you with an adequate living arrangement (hint hint, that means a high-class NYC condo). I’m going to assume that this future condo will be far better than your current one - like I said before, broke college graduate. I can only imagine the mess. There are two ways you can proceed here. One: give notice that you’ll no longer need the apartment to your landlord, and slowly move your things in. Two: Keep your apartment if it’ll make you feel safer. But I can guarantee that you’ll regret having to spend money paying rent for an empty condo. Do what you’re more comfortable with; either way, it _is_ technically my money that you’ll be using. Just let me know so that I can take it into consideration regarding your payments. 
> 
> One last thing - work on your grammar, kid. I mean, a lowercase ‘I’? Starting your sentences with “and”? Scandalous. 
> 
> Tony. 

What a dick. Peter snorted a laugh, then hit reply. 

> From: parker810@gmail.com  
>  Sent: Monday, January 4, 2021 9:39 PM  
>  To: t.stark@starkindustries.com  
>  Subject: re: Contract & Other Paperwork 
> 
> Hey, not everyone writes professional emails for a living!! >:0 Your emails are like essays, jeez. 
> 
> I _know_ that I’ve completed my task. Are you always so picky with words? Oh god I hope you’re not gonna beat my ass with a paddle if you find my words vague or something. 
> 
> I’ll tell my landlord I’m moving out. I trust that you won’t hang me out to dry (please don’t). 
> 
> No allergies or restrictions. Just please don’t make anything too spicy, or you’ll see my face get embarrassingly red and I don’t want that. 
> 
> See you tomorrow at 5, 
> 
> Peter.

He wasn’t really expecting a response, considering that half of his email consisted of him just talking shit, but Tony surprised him. 

> From: t.stark@starkindustries.com  
>  Sent: Monday, January 4, 2021 9:44 PM  
>  To: parker810@gmail.com  
>  Subject: re: Contract & Other Paperwork
> 
> You’re worrying about the wrong things, kid. I’m going to make your face embarrassingly red, and it won’t be with food, if you catch my drift. All in good time. 
> 
> Go to sleep soon. I want you well-rested for tomorrow.
> 
> Tony.

Peter’s face burst into flames. He didn’t reply, just closing out of the tab and exhaling. Holy shit. He was really going to do this. He felt a strange mixture of eagerness and apprehension, but he didn’t really want to delve too deeply into that, so he decided to call it a night. 

He headed for the bathroom, brushed his teeth, washed his face, and changed into his fleece PJ’s. He hoped Tony’s place had better heating than his (it probably did), because he had a feeling he’d be spending a lot of time without his clothes on (was it wrong to kind of like that?). 

It was still too early to get his body to fall asleep, so he scrolled through Instagram for a bit and then, surprise, surprise, searched up Tony’s account. 

The man had a shit load of followers and 538 posts. Jeez. He clicked on the most recent post and had to refrain from rolling his eyes when he saw that it was about Tony’s business trip to France four days ago. The next post had photos from his trip to Dubai, and his press conference on his newly developed missiles. He kept scrolling down and finally stopped at South Korea, becoming a bit overwhelmed. It was one thing to know that Tony was rich as fuck, it was another to _see_ it and know that he would be experiencing it soon too. He closed out of the app and pulled up his messages. 

> **Peter: You go on a load of business trips. Will you ever take me with you?**

He figured it was a valid question, and a good way of figuring out just how far Tony was willing to take this sugar daddy thing. 

> **Tony: Maybe. If you’re good. If you earn it.**

Peter’s mouth went dry. 

He turned off his phone with a click and set it down on his nightstand, then closed his eyes, trying to urge himself to sleep. By eleven, he succeeded, his last few thoughts lingering on the possibilities that tomorrow would bring. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hope you enjoyed! Please leave me some comments and kudos, they really are the best source of motivation for writers :) 
> 
> Feel free to visit me on [my tumblr!](https://snowstark.tumblr.com)


	2. Chapter 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> _“What do you want me to call you then?”_
> 
> _“What do you want to call me?” Tony countered._
> 
> _Peter flushed. “Uh, I’m not sure. I guess Sir is fine, right?”_
> 
> _“It is,” Tony agreed. “But I’m not against Daddy either.”_
> 
> Peter and Tony negotiate.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> hey there lovely ppl!! first off, i was super shocked and ecstatic about the response for the first chapter! i'm so glad you're all enjoying. i hope this chapter doesn't disappoint! 
> 
> i was going to hold off on updating this until i had a decent amount written for chapter 3, but i've been having a rough couple of days so i figured, why not? i figured seeing your comments would cheer me up.
> 
> as always, a big thank you to [winterironspiderling](https://winterironspiderling.tumblr.com) for being such an amazing beta and friend!

> **Tony: You don’t need to send me your address anymore. I found it and sent it to my driver.**

That was the text that Peter woke up to the following day. At first, he accepted it with a shrug in his half-asleep state, then choked on his toothpaste when he actually processed Tony’s words while brushing his teeth. He spat, rinsed, and left without even patting his face dry in his haste to grab his phone. 

> **Peter: Wait how did you find my address??? Should I be worried??**
> 
> **Tony: No. I just like to do my research. Got a little out of control, sorry. Hey, I didn’t know you sang soprano in your elementary school’s choir. Very impressive.**

Oh my god. 

> **Peter: How did you find THAT out?? Ohmygod I know we arranged to meet up already but I’m genuinely a little creeped out right now, Tony**
> 
> **Tony: Chill, kid. I’m just messing with you. I didn’t know you sang choir until now. I took an educated guess. As for your address - I remembered that I still had your adorable fraudulent little resume and found it there.**

Okay. Peter calmed down a bit, though he was still having war flashbacks of his elementary school times. Thank you for that, Tony. 

> **Peter: Please stop giving me mini heart attacks. I thought you wanted me alive.**
> 
> **Tony: I want you alive or dead.**

Andddd nope. He was scared again. 

> **Tony: I’m just messing with you. I most definitely want you alive. Dead people? Not my thing.**
> 
> **Peter: I hate you.**
> 
> **Tony: That’ll probably change sometime in the near future. But we’ll see.**

Peter turned off his phone after that, realizing that he was just going around in circles. He had a sneaking suspicion that the man enjoyed tormenting him way too much. The fucker probably got off on it, was probably jacking off or something already. 

Peter spent most of his day preparing his bag. He wasn’t packing much, but he couldn’t decide what to take, and that was what took up most of his time. 

In the end, he packed his favourite hoodie, his wallet (although it probably wouldn’t be seeing the light of day anytime soon), his phone charger, headphones, three pairs of boxers, and the white teddy bear he’d had since he was a kid. Everything else could either be moved in slowly or thrown away. He figured that even if there wasn’t something he needed at Tony’s place, Tony could probably just buy it and have it delivered to his house within a few minutes. 

He ate lunch (surprise, surprise, a second bowl of macaroni), and once he did the dishes it was nearly 4:30 PM. That meant he had half an hour left until a car came to pick him up. He spent that time trying to figure out what to wear. 

He hadn’t really been planning on dressing up, but at the moment, he was wearing sweats and a plain white t-shirt that came down to the middle of his thighs. He didn’t know Tony too well, but he had a feeling it would be a miracle if Tony didn’t have a stroke when he saw his appearance. Peter didn’t really have a thing for dead people either. 

So, clothes. 

There was nothing impressive in his wardrobe, but somehow, he managed to dig up a pair of khakis and a collared, vertically-striped navy and white shirt that went well enough with it. It’d been a while since he last went out shopping. He hoped he didn’t smell musty. 

His phone buzzed. 

> **Tony: Your car’s arrived.**
> 
> **Peter: OK, cool**

Fuck, not cool. He was so not ready for this. 

He snatched up his bag, slung it over his shoulder, slipped on his Converses, and stepped outside. After locking the door and triple-checking to make sure he hadn’t forgotten anything, he took the elevator down and found a sleek black car, engine still humming, waiting for him right outside of the lobby. 

The receptionist gave him a bit of a weird look, making Peter flush. He’d lived here for years now, and he was pretty sure the reason he was getting stared at was because throughout those years, he’d never ever once dressed the way he currently was. The last time he had… it was probably at high school grad, right before everything went to shit when Aunt May passed. 

Peter slipped outside and headed straight for the car. The window rolled down, revealing a man with his hair tied into a bun on the top of his head. “Peter Parker? Get in.”

Peter wordlessly opened the door to the backseat and scooted inside. “Hi.”

A grunt.

Peter sat there, waiting for the car to start driving. When it didn’t, he began to sweat. 

“Your seatbelt.”

“Oh.” Peter flushed and fumbled to buckle himself in. Only then did the man start driving, brow tightly knotted as he pulled out of the apartment entrance. “You know, I haven’t worn a seatbelt since I was thirteen.”

An unimpressed look. “Well, Tony would kill me if I didn’t get his precious boy toy to him in one piece.”

“I’m not his boy toy.”

“Yet. But if you insist—sugar baby, then.”

Peter couldn’t really argue against that one. He switched topics. “Are you not gonna tell me your name?”

Silence. 

Peter sighed. “Could you at least tell me how long it takes to get there?”

“Twenty minutes. And Bucky.”

“What?”

“Bucky. My name.”

“Okay, Bucky.” 

They didn’t talk after that. Peter sucked the inside of his cheek and stared out of the window for the entire ride. He wished Bucky would turn on some music or something to fill the silence, but he didn’t. 

Peter was relieved when they arrived at one of the largest condos he’d ever seen. This was definitely Tony’s place. Not that it was a difficult inference to make; the ‘STARK’ in big bold letters in front of the condo gave it away. “He got his name on there, huh?” he said half-jokingly, just to make conversation. A last pitiful attempt. “I wonder how much he had to pay to do that.”

“He owns the building.”

Okay then. 

Peter watched as Bucky drove them into an underground parking lot, where Tony had an entire floor reserved just for himself, apparently, judging by the numerous sports cars with their license plates. STARK1. STARK2. STARK3. And so on. 

Bucky smoothly pulled into an empty spot, then turned the engine off. He turned to face Peter. “Give me your bags. I’ll carry them up.”

“Um, no, it’s okay. I can just take it.” He didn’t really want Bucky seeing the contents of his belongings, especially the teddy bear. 

“Tony’s orders.”

Fuck. “Okay, sure, then. Thanks.” He passed his tote bag over to Bucky, cursing himself for not shoving everything into a zippered backpack. 

Bucky raised his eyebrow when he saw the teddy bear’s ears poking out of the top of the bag, then smirked, showing emotion for the first time. “Cute.” He sounded amused. 

Peter flushed and refused to respond. 

Bucky took mercy on him. “Go through that door and take the elevator up to the top.”

Peter obeyed. His hands were sweaty from nerves and he had to keep reminding himself that he’d already met Tony before, that this was just another job opportunity, one that was actually better than the original.

The elevator ride felt far too fast, because it felt like only 3.4 seconds had passed when the doors opened with a cheerful  _ ding!  _ Peter had no choice but to step out. He inhaled at the breathtaking view. 

Tony’s apartment resembled the New York condos that he’d seen on Youtube once—sleek, glamorous, and flashy. The floor was marbled in the hallway leading away from the elevator, and changed to dark hardwood floor once it turned the corner. The walls were taupe, and Tony had several paintings of modern art hung up. 

Peter made a noise of surprise when he found that the floor was  _ heated,  _ because of course it was. He was trying to decide between tearing through the condo to explore and sitting on the couch to look sophisticated when Tony, popping out of thin air, made that decision for him. 

“Peter.”

Peter jumped. 

Tony smiled, looking pleased that he’d caught Peter off guard. Jerk. Peter let his eyes roam from head to toe, taking in Tony’s appearance. The man was dressed casually—well, casual for Tony’s standards, Peter supposed. He was dressed in a black shirt with a folded collar that clung to his frame and dark navy slacks. He looked good. Really good. 

Tony’s smile grew when it became clear that Peter was ogling him. Like the absolute gentleman he was, he allowed Peter to drink his fill, then beckoned with his fingers, and for some reason, that went straight to Peter’s dick. “C’mere. We’re gonna eat out on the deck.”

Peter obediently followed him outside, and was once again taken aback by the view. New York definitely looked different from a billionaire’s balcony. 

Tony sat down in a chair and opened a bottle. “Dinner’s almost ready. I took it easy because I figured it’s still a bit early. We can start with a drink.”

Peter shrugged. “Yeah, that’s fine with me.” He accepted the glass Tony passed him and was surprised to find that it was flavoured sparkling water instead of the wine he’d been expecting. “Not a  _ drink  _ drink, then?” he asked, just because. 

Tony took a lazy sip and watched the ice clink against the sides of the glass. He crossed a leg over the other and rhythmically tapped his fingers on his knee as he spoke. “I don’t drink before negotiations. Definitely not before scenes either, so you won’t ever have to worry about that.”

“It’s fine, I don’t care.”

Tony blinked, looking mildly disturbed. “You should,” he said carefully. “Don’t ever scene with someone who’s been drinking.”

Peter shrugged. “Makes sense. I guess what I meant was that I’ve never really, uh,  _ scened  _ before.” He’d done some extra research before coming over, which he was grateful for now, because there was actually a lot of terminology involved in what he’d initially thought was just whips and chains. 

He suddenly wondered if Tony was expecting him to have previous experience because shit, he didn’t. Not really. He’d mostly stuck to vanilla sex in college. The kinkiest thing he’d done was handcuffs, and they’d been fake plastic ones at a Halloween party. “I think I should let you know that I don’t really have much experience with… this. In case it wasn’t clear.”

Tony laughed. “It was clear,” he assured. “I’m not bothered by it though.”

“Why not? Wouldn’t you rather have someone who knows what they’re doing?”

“Not really.”

“Oh.”

Tony hummed, sipped the last bit of his drink, then set the glass down on the table in front of them. “I’d much rather have a pretty boy eager to please me. One I can mould to fit  _ my  _ expectations, no one else’s. That could be you.”

His words shot right through Peter, eliciting a small little voice in his head that hissed  _ yessssrightnowohmygodcock.  _ “It could be,” he agreed thickly. 

Tony seemed pleased, but he didn’t say anything else. He got up and went back into the condo. Peter blinked and hesitated, unsure if he was expected to follow him inside, but relaxed in his seat when he heard the sound of dishes clinking. It was probably (hopefully) dinner. 

Bingo. 

Tony came back after a few minutes, holding two large dishes in his hands. Peter’s mouth watered at the smell of food, and he had to bite the inside of his cheek to hold in his drool when Tony passed him his plate. 

Tony had made fettuccine alfredo with sliced mushrooms and baked chicken. Peter could’ve kissed the man right then and there. He accepted the cutlery, then shot Tony a glance as the man got back into his seat, trying to gauge whether he should dig in. Tony laughed and gestured for him to go ahead, and Peter was more than happy to oblige. 

They were quiet for a good five minutes until Peter finally broke the silence. “This is  _ so fucking good.” _

Tony snorted. “You’re welcome, kid. Glad you’re enjoying.”

“I am,” Peter assured. He swallowed his chicken, then pushed the mushroom aside casually. “I didn’t know you knew how to cook.”

Tony looked mildly offended. “Of course I know how to cook.”

“Well, it’s just, you know.” Peter shrugged, face starting to go a bit warm. “I just thought ‘cause you’re like, a billionaire. I figured you’d have a private chef or something.”

“I do, but I wanted to make you dinner myself this time.”

A happy noise escaped Peter before he could suppress it, and Tony laughed again. “Very charming, Mr. Parker.”

“Shhh. I’m eating.” Peter grinned back, then pushed away another mushroom. 

Tony didn’t miss it this time. “Eat your veggies,” he said with a snort, sounding both amused and exasperated.

Peter pouted. “I hate mushrooms.”

“Noted. You still have to eat them.”

Peter huffed. “Fine. On one condition.”

Tony raised an eyebrow. “You sure like to think that you’re in a position to negotiate.”

Peter stared back challengingly, feeling a thrill go down his spine. “Isn’t that what we’re here to do?” He smiled sweetly.

“Fine. I’ll hear you out, but no guarantees.”

Peter shoved a mouthful of pasta into his mouth and took his time chewing, just to irk Tony a bit (because if that wasn’t fun, what was?), then said lightly, “I’ll eat them this time. But I don’t want you to put them in any other meal that you give me.”

Tony rolled his eyes. “You are  _ such  _ a child. Fine, deal. Give them to me; I’ll eat them. No,  _ in the dish.”  _ He held out his plate in Peter’s direction. “Don’t you dare try and airplane them into my mouth. What am I, a baby?  _ No,  _ do  _ not  _ answer that. Bad puppy.” 

Peter burst into laughter, then discarded the vegetable into Tony’s plate. 

Tony rolled his eyes. “Finish your food.”

Peter saluted, then inhaled the rest of his pasta. His stomach was feeling happily full by the time Tony took the plate from his hands. 

“Come on, let’s go inside to negotiate.”

It was time. Peter’s hands instantly became sweaty with nerves again, but he resolutely got out of his seat and followed Tony inside. He was ushered to the couch where he tucked himself into the corner, leaning on the arm to get comfortable.

Tony sat down across from him. “Okay, pal. Let’s do this.”

“Let’s,” Peter agreed weakly. 

It only served to amuse Tony more. “Finance first.” He snatched up his laptop from the glass table between them and began to type. “As agreed, twenty thousand per month, eight thousand as a signing bonus, deal?”

Peter nodded.

“Are there any other financial concerns that you have?” Tony raised an eyebrow. “Health issues, family, savings account, whatever. Wants or needs, I don’t care, just tell me. I don’t mean your debts though; I’ll pay that off by next week for you.”

“Jesus. Are you sure?” Peter stared at him, absolutely shocked.

Tony gave him a wry smile. “That’s what I’m here for, isn’t it?”

Right.

“Now answer my question.”

“No family.” Peter didn’t soften it, just brusquely moving past the topic. “No health issues either. Well, I haven’t been to the doctor in a hot second, so.” He shrugged. “And yeah, I have a bank account. Not much in my savings though.” He grimaced.

Tony nodded. “We’ll get you a doctor’s appointment soon,” he mused, typing into his laptop. “Just for a checkup. And you need to get tested too, because as pretty as you are, you are  _ not  _ about to give me herpes. I got tested a week ago; I’ll show you the papers before we do anything.” He eyed Peter, then said, “Money will be directly deposited to your account on the 20th of each month.”

“Why the 20th?”

Tony quirked a smile. “No reason. It’s just my favourite number.”

Peter rolled his eyes. “Okay, sounds good to me. Um, besides that… you mentioned clothes? I guess?” He felt awkward discussing money with Tony because it made him feel weird. Like he really was Tony’s sugar baby now. Which, he  _ was,  _ technically, but damn. 

Tony nodded grimly. “Yes. I’m going to come up with a new wardrobe for you, kid. You dress like a delivery boy.”

“I was one.”

Tony stared. “What?”

Peter flushed, cursing himself for even bringing it up. “Um, for a few months, I was a delivery boy for the postal office. Except I don’t know how to drive, so I always took public transit or my bike. Kept making late deliveries because of traffic, so I got fired.” He dropped his eyes, not wanting to discuss it anymore. 

Tony clearly decided to show him some mercy and continued on like nothing had happened. “We’ll take you shopping for anything you need, including clothes. No need to think of specifics right now; I’ll just put them all under personal matters.” He typed for a few moments, then looked at Peter over the screen of his laptop. “Any questions?”

Peter hesitated. “Um, will you ever  _ not _ pay me?”

Tony frowned, looking genuinely confused for the first time. “No. Why would I do that?”

Peter shrugged. “I dunno. Like, I guess I was just wondering what exactly your standards are. You obviously want something from me, but I told you that I’m inexperienced. So what if I don’t meet those standards, and you feel like I didn’t earn my pay?”

“Jesus, kid. I’m not  _ that _ fucked, okay?” Tony looked severely turned off. “I’m not going to be railing you day and night. Believe it or not, I don’t want just a hole to fuck, I want an actual human being who keeps me company.”

“So you want a pet.”

Tony snorted. “If that’s how you want to see it, fine.”

“Okay. So we won’t have sex every day. But we will sometimes, won’t we?”

“Sure. If we’re both in the mood for it. I won’t ever make you do anything if you don’t want to.”

Peter nodded, feeling grateful. “Okay.” He bit his lip, then asked timidly, “But the inexperience—”

Tony waved a hand at him. “Don’t worry about it, it’s not a problem for me if it isn’t for you.” His eyes flicked from Peter’s face to his chest, then back to his face. “Besides, I have a feeling that you’re going to be a natural.”

Peter flushed. 

“So, your pay will always be twenty thousand per month, on the 20th, no matter what. Even if you choose to stew in your room every single day, I  _ will _ still pay you. No exceptions. Does that help you feel better?”

“Thank you.” Peter felt both grateful and cheap for hyper-fixating on money so much.

“On the topic of consent—you need to choose a safeword. I usually use the traffic light system. Red for stop, yellow for pause and take a break to discuss, and green for good to go. Does that work for you or do you want another method?”

“No, that’s fine with me.” Peter didn’t want to risk choosing a word that he’d forget the next day. 

“Tell me your hard limits. Things you don’t ever want to do. I saw your kink list, but I want to make sure you can verbalize yourself too.”

“Um, okay. Well, I don’t want to do anything with bodily fluids besides—” Peter broke off and blushed. “You know. And uh, no bruising or permanent marks or anything.”

“Hickeys?”

“Maybe. I’m not sure yet.”

“Soft limit, then. Keep going.”

“No canes. No whips. Nothing like a whip. It just freaks me out a lot.”

“Valid. What else?”

Peter stared at Tony in panic mode, trying to remember what else he’d marked as a limit in the PDF. “Uh. No fire play, wax play, or knife play.”

“And what about ice play? That’s also temperature play.”

“That’s fine. Just don’t shove a frozen dildo up my ass.”

“If you ask nicely.” Tony smirked, then saw the look on Peter’s face and chuckled. “I’m just joking, kid.”

“No needles or electricity. No feet. Please.”

Tony laughed and reassured, “No feet.”

“And um, I’m not sure about degradation. I don’t know how I feel about it, so that’s a soft limit, I guess.”

“We can figure it out as we go,” Tony promised. “Anything else?”

Peter nodded. “One more.”

“Go on, then.”

“You can’t lend me out to other people. I’m not a whore.” It hadn’t been on the list, but he wanted to mention it just for his own sake. “I’m not comfortable with that, like at all. And I’m not comfortable with you seeing other people either. I’ve already said that, I think.” 

“Not a problem. You are not a whore, and neither am I,” Tony agreed. “I don’t like sharing what’s mine either, so we’re on the same page.”

Peter swallowed, mouth going dry at his words— _ mine _ —and nodded. “Okay. That’s it for me then. Do you have any? You didn’t really send me your list or anything so…”

Tony hummed. “My limits are all the same as yours, with a few additions. Don’t call me Master. I don’t like that. I’ve never been interested in a Master/slave dynamic. I like total power exchange, and that’s what we’ll be doing, but you are  _ not  _ my slave and I don’t want you to forget that. Understood?”

“What do you want me to call you then?”

“What do you want to call me?” Tony countered.

Peter flushed. “Uh, I’m not sure. I guess Sir is fine, right?”

“It is,” Tony agreed. “But I’m not against Daddy either.”

Peter’s dick really liked that, too much, actually, and he had to shift to cover himself nonchalantly. The movement wasn’t missed by Tony, judging by the knowing smirk on his face. Peter hurried along the conversation before anything could be said about it. “What else? You said a few additions.”

“I’m okay with you initiating, but I won’t always say yes. If I say no, it means no. Sometimes it might not make sense to you, but I’ll have my reasons, so I expect you to listen and obey unless you feel the need to safeword.” Tony directed his attention back to his typing, brow creased in concentration. “No interfering with my work. At all. If I’m working, you’re not to disturb me unless I say otherwise.”

“You work every day though, don’t you?” Peter frowned. “What do I do during that time?”

“I’ll give you chores.” Tony laughed when Peter pulled a face. “Relax, princess. It won’t be that bad. Dishes, laundry, cooking, whatever. Once those chores are done, you can do whatever you want—watch TV, read a book, go on your laptop. The only exception is that you’re not allowed to touch yourself sexually unless you have my permission, or you’ll deal with the consequences.”

“I don’t have a laptop.” Peter refused to acknowledge the blush he took on again at Tony’s last few words. 

“You will soon.”

“Oh.”

“And finally—no stealing. You can always ask for stuff you want. Chances are, you’ll get it ninety-nine percent of the time. There’s no need to steal from me. Got it?”

Peter nodded, but he couldn’t help the confusion that bubbled up inside him. 

“That doesn’t look like a yes to me. What’s up?”

Peter looked down, then said meekly, “I guess I just don’t know why you’d think I’d steal from you.”

A beat of silence, and then— “Kid, I wasn’t accusing you.” Tony’s voice was gentle. “I highly doubt you even have the balls to try. But remember what I said yesterday? People will do anything they can to get what they want from me. I’ve had people resort to theft in the past. I deal with enough of that at work, so I don’t need it in my personal life. That’s what I meant. I have the same expectation in my closest friends; it wasn’t personal and it’s definitely not an accusation. Okay, sweetheart?”

The pet name made Peter melt and he looked up to meet Tony’s eyes. “Yeah,” he said softly. “I understand now. Thank you.”

Tony nodded. “You can always ask questions,” he told Peter. “I might not always give you an answer, but you should ask if you don’t understand something.” 

“‘kay.”

“That’s it for my limits. Tell me about your interests now, if you don’t have any more questions.”

Peter paused to think before answering. “I guess I like science. And math. I was kind of a nerd at school.” He laughed. “I like experiments and building things in labs. When I was at MIT—”

“You were at MIT?” Tony interrupted.

Peter broke off, confused. “Yeah. I thought—didn’t you see that in my resume?”

“I stopped reading it after I caught your lie near the top.” Tony sounded a bit distracted, eyeing Peter with an expression that he couldn’t decipher. “Keep going.”

“Well, um, when I was at MIT, I would always be fooling around with my friend Ned in the lab.”

“Doing what?”

“Not much. Just building stuff, making things. I made this pretty cool web fluid once, sort of like a spider web but… for humans. That sounds really weird, doesn’t it?”

“No, no, I’m intrigued.” Tony sounded genuine, gazing at Peter with interest.

“Uh, well, I guess I kind of stopped with all that once I graduated. I would’ve liked to continue, but getting access to a lab like the one at MIT is pretty expensive, and I couldn’t afford it, so.” Peter took a deep breath to stop himself before he could keep rambling. “I like reading. And drawing or painting, sometimes. I’m not very good at it, but I’d like to be.”

“I can get you a tutor for that if you want. It would keep you busy.” Tony leaned back, looking like he was already planning out who to contact. “There’s someone I know—Steve—he’s really good at drawing. Makes up for his self-righteousness, I suppose. He made a few of those paintings you probably saw on the wall while coming in. He could teach you. Would you like that?”

“That would be really nice,” Peter said softly, feeling a flash of gratefulness towards Tony. Before coming over, he’d really just thought that this was all going to be a sex thing. In all honesty, it definitely could be. Tony didn’t  _ have  _ to be giving Peter the things he was offering. But he was, like he actually  _ cared _ about how happy Peter was with him. 

“Done. Anything else?”

“No, nothing.” Peter sheepishly rubbed the back of his neck. “Guess I’m kind of boring.”

“Not at all. I’m sure I’ll find out what else you like the longer we spend with each other. Are you ready to discuss some rules now?”

“Yeah.”

“Alright.” Tony turned his attention back to the laptop. “I have a few in mind so I’ll rattle them off and you can chime in whenever.” He looked up, and at Peter’s nod, he continued. “First rule. You ask for permission if you want to do something. I’ve mentioned this before in the email, but you’re handing control over to me, and I expect you to listen unless you’re going to safeword. This is going to be a total power exchange dynamic.”

“Okay, but…” Peter blushed. “Like, what exactly is it that you want me to ask permission for? I don’t have to ask to use the bathroom or shower or anything, do I?”

Tony looked amused. “Let me specify. You don’t have to get permission for that. What you  _ do  _ have to ask permission for is if you want to go out, for example. Or if you want to eat junk food for a meal. If you want to meet a friend, ask. If you want to get off, that’s fair game too. Not allowed unless I grant you permission. Does that make sense?”

Peter frowned. “Sort of.”

“Okay, how’s this—to make things clear, assume that you should ask permission for anything you feel unsure about, minus bodily needs like using the bathroom, drinking water, et cetera.”

Peter nodded. “I can do that.”

“I know you can. Moving on. Rule two. This is related to my limits, but again, you’re not going to interfere with my work. Sometimes I might want you to kneel by my feet or sit in my lap while I work, but when I do, you’re not to interrupt whatever I’m doing unless you need to safeword.”

“So you really do want a pet.”

“Consider yourself more like a lapdog. An obedient little puppy.” Tony grinned.

Peter flushed. “Right.”

“Rule number three. If I give you tasks to do, you’re expected to get them done. No slacking off. You can relax once you’ve finished those. Again, something I’ve already told you.” Tony typed into the laptop for a few moments, then continued. “Rule four. Don’t bargain with me. Once we start, you’re not in a position to negotiate when I tell you to do something. Any bargaining and I’ll lock you up in a cage. I’m joking. Jesus, kid, I’m just kidding! No cage. Rule five. You’re going to keep track of your count every day.”

“My count?”

“Shhh. Let me explain. When you misbehave or mouth off—which I expect you will, judging by our conversations so far—I’m going to tell you how many counts you earned. The next morning—unless there’s an emergency at work—you’ll be receiving that number of spanks from me, with my hand. It’ll serve as a reminder of who you belong to and act as an incentive to keep you out of trouble.”

Peter gulped. “Oh.”

“Sounds okay?”

“Yeah.” He was okay with that. A bit too much, actually. Maybe he really was going to be a natural at this. 

“Good. Rule six. If you’re upset about something, or feeling some type of way that you know would concern me,  _ communicate. _ Don’t hold it in. I want to know if I can help your situation, and even if I can’t, the least I can do is let you vent. So, communicate. Ask questions if you don’t understand something. You’ll always be allowed to voice your thoughts and opinions, as long as you’re respectful to both yourself and me. Always be honest—that’s the last rule. If you lie, I won’t be impressed. You’ll deal with the consequences.”

“Which are?” Peter couldn’t keep the apprehension out of his tone. 

Tony smiled. “That’s cute. You’ll find out if that’s the route you choose.”

Right. “Can you tell me about the chores and tasks?”

“Definitely.” Tony seemed pleased with his question. “You’ll take care of the dishes. I also want you to take care of our meals at least three times a week—if that means getting takeout, that’s fine, just let me know beforehand. There are menus in the drawer on the very left in the kitchen. I have a cleaning service, but I want you to keep the place relatively tidy and clean up after yourself.”

Alright. He could do that.

“I also like to visit the gym every second day, so you’ll be waking up by seven  _ latest _ to go down with me to the—”

“Whoa, hold on. What?” Now  _ that  _ he couldn’t do.

“Don’t interrupt me. As I was saying, it’s a private gym so we’ll have it to ourselves. Nothing too difficult, just some cardio and weight training—”

“Is this mandatory?”

“Peter.” Tony levelled a look at him, and although his voice was soft, Peter could still hear the steel underneath it. “I told you not to interrupt.”

“We haven’t started yet though.”

“That doesn’t mean you should go out of your way to be disrespectful.”

Peter didn’t have a response for that. He looked down. “Sorry.”

Tony swept right on. “That’s the basic gist of your tasks. If I feel the need to add or take away certain ones, I might do so. But I’ll always let you know when I do.”

“Okay.” 

“Now, your grace period ends tomorrow. You won’t be dealing with any counts tomorrow morning obviously, but the moment the clock strikes eight, it’s free game for the next day’s. Understood?”

“Yes.”

“Do you have anything else you want to discuss?”

“Um. No. Wait, yes.” Peter leaned forward. “I want a day off, remember?”

“Ah, right.” Tony hummed thoughtfully. “Sunday? That way you won’t have any counts to deal with on Monday morning, which is when I also tend to be the busiest.”

“Sunday at 12:01 AM, or Sunday at 8 AM?” Peter asked. 

“8 AM?” Tony suggested. “That way you start again at the same time on Monday, like you will tomorrow.”

“Okay,” Peter agreed readily.

“It’s Tuesday today. You want a trial  _ week,  _ so you won’t get a day off this Sunday.”

“That’s fine.”

“Lovely.” Tony shut the laptop, looking pleased. “I’m glad we’ve gotten the boring part out of the way. Now for the fun stuff.”

“Whoa, whoa, big guy. We start tomorrow, remember?” Peter eyed Tony warily. The man looked ready to pounce. And while Peter wouldn’t be complaining if he did, he wanted to make sure Tony was capable of following through with his promises. 

Tony chuckled. “I know, I know. I’m free to imagine, though.” He shrugged. “Is there anything you’d like to do for the rest of today?”

“Well… can I get a tour?”

Tony laughed. “You sure can.” He set the laptop aside and beckoned for Peter to get up. 

Peter followed Tony obediently, staying a little behind Tony as the man showed him around. They spent the most time in the kitchen with Tony showing him every single appliance, after Peter mistook the microwave for a built-in oven. 

“Guest bedroom,” Tony announced, opening a door to reveal a blue-toned bedroom. 

Peter saw that his bag was placed on top of the dark blue sheets covering the bed and he wondered when Bucky had dropped that off. He hoped that the man hadn’t heard his negotiations with Tony. That made his face grow warm. 

“Treat this room like your own for your time here. When you have some free time, you can hop onto Pinterest and figure out how you want to redecorate it.”

Peter gave him a surprised look. “Really?”

“Yes. Although you won’t be sleeping here.” Tony closed the door and gestured for him to follow. “You’ll be with me right in here.” He opened another door to an even bigger room. “But if you ever need some personal time, that room is always there for you. There’s no lock on it, but if your door is closed, I’ll always knock first.” 

“That’s… thank you.” In all honesty, Peter hadn’t even been expecting to be given a room. 

“Sure thing, kid.” Tony shrugged. “Tour’s over. Are you impressed yet?”

Peter gave a dry laugh. “I’ve been impressed the moment I inhaled the same air as you,” he told the man. “You even breathe expensively, you know that?”

“Hm. You’re gonna do good things for my ego, kid.”

“Somehow I don’t think you need any help with that,” Peter muttered. 

Tony’s eyes lit up with amusement, but he wagged a finger in Peter’s face. “Ah-ah! Manners. Besides, I’m sure you’ll pick up a thing or two from me throughout the year.”

“Maybe.”

“Now, since you’re technically not working for me yet, you’re free to decide what to do for the rest of the night. You can sleep in your room or mine; your choice.”

Peter paused, weighing his options. On one hand, he wanted to enjoy his last little bit of freedom before handing total control over his life to the billionaire standing in front of him. On the other, he  _ really _ wanted to bury himself in Tony’s king-sized bed for the rest of the night. He actually enjoyed talking with the man, which was again, unexpected. 

“Your room,” he finally decided.

Tony looked pleased. “Okay, great.”

“I want to take a shower in the master bedroom too,” Peter said. He’d seen the bathrooms in the condo during the tour and they were fucking  _ incredible.  _

Tony made an amused noise. “Go right ahead. I’ll be watching some TV while typing up the contract, so take your time.”

Peter saluted, then headed off. 

Sure enough, the shower was better than anything he’d ever experienced before. He spent an hour in there just experimenting with the different nozzles and buttons. If Tony accused him of being a hot water hogger, so be it. 

When he finally came out after towelling himself off, he felt more relaxed than he’d been in a long while. He’d been planning to get his pyjamas from his room, but he found that Tony had laid out some of his own for him, folded neatly on the bed with a pair of boxers. They were a bit loose on him, but he liked how soft and silky they were. Definitely better than his. 

He slipped out of the room and padded into the living room. Tony was typing away on the laptop, brow furrowed in concentration. The TV was playing  _ Forrest Gump. _ Classic. 

Tony looked up when Peter sat down next to him, then smirked. “A bit big, huh?”

“I’ll grow into them,” Peter said, mockingly offended. He flopped over so that his head was in Tony’s lap, pushing the laptop to the side a bit.

Tony laughed. “Sure thing, kid.” He didn’t seem fazed at all by Peter’s move. Instead, he ruffled Peter’s hair, then grinned. “You used the strawberry shampoo? I had a feeling you’d like that.” He eyed Peter, looking extremely smug. “I gotta admit, I like knowing that you’re dressed in what I gave you. You didn’t have to.”

“I’d be an idiot to turn them down,” Peter responded, eyes trained on the TV. “I have half a mind to burn my own now.”

Tony snorted, then murmured something that sounded suspiciously like an agreement before turning his attention back to his laptop. 

Peter began to doze by the time Forrest met Bubba. It had been an exhausting day and even though it was only ten, he was more than ready to pass out. That feeling was intensified when Tony absentmindedly began to card his hand through his hair, scratching lightly at his scalp.

Peter fell asleep right then and there. 

He wasn’t sure what time it was when Tony woke him up, but the man patiently coaxed him to his feet before giving up entirely and just picking him up. Peter gave a half-hearted protest, which Tony ignored in favour of depositing him in bed, then disappearing into the bathroom.

Peter was nearly asleep by the time Tony slipped into bed. The man kept his distance though, and Peter didn’t have the energy to scoot the small distance to curl up next to him. Another day. For now, sleep. 

And sleep he did. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> thank you for reading! please do tell me what you thought in the comments, it'll put a much needed smile on my face :') <3
> 
> i'm also not sure when the third chapter will be done, because i want these chapters to be decently long. would you guys prefer if i have a decent amount written for the fourth chapter before posting the third so that there's not as much of a long wait in between chapters, or should i just post as i finish writing them? let me know what you'd prefer!
> 
> feel free to visit me on [my tumblr!](https://snowstark.tumblr.com)


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